


Thievery is Tricky Business

by longlostintentions



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Timeline sort of, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Rating May Change, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 13:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2349920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longlostintentions/pseuds/longlostintentions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when you owe a pirate a debt? The wisest answer is "Anything". Usually...<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Theft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light spoiler about where Balthier is from. Nothing you can't reasonably assume from what you learn at the Phon Coast.

Her fingers twitched at the sight of the gleaming metal in the pouch of a traveler as he sat, distracted, talking to another rough looking man at one of the only tables in the pub. The young woman wiped the dirt off her face as best she could and tried to straighten her homely, ragged clothes. Her raven hair was hopeless, lopsided and in obvious need of cleaning, it would have to do as is. The traveler, for his part, looked thoroughly occupied with his company, engaged but at ease and leaning back casually. His clothes were nice enough and he probably wouldn't miss a small trinket. She attached herself to a passing older man, not so close as to be noticed but close enough to appear in his company.

Hitching up her bag in case she needed to run, she let her hand hang loosely by her side as she brushed past the man's pouch. She didn't dare look down but felt the cold, smooth chain slip over her fingers and prayed to the Sky it would come easily. She focused all her energy in not letting the quick beat of her heart make her drop it. She felt it sliding slowly, slowly, until the pendant fell free of the pouch with a (mercifully) quiet clank.

She slipped it into her own bag, trying not to walk away too briskly, lest she seem conspicuous. She hadn't noticed her makeshift escort had stopped moving until she ran into him. He barked as he swung around drunkenly.  
"Watch where you're going you damned brat!" His loudness made several nearby heads swivel and it panicked her. As she turned towards the door muttering curses under her breath, she heard the voice of her victim behind her let out an expletive of his own and booked it out the door.

Outside The Whitecap, she wound her way through the crowded plaza, dashing up the steps and following a waterway off the main street. The port was warm and sunny, even with the conflicting winds blowing in from the ocean and the Steppe. She fumbled with her bag, trying to get it as closed as she could without a latch, then felt her foot catch and toppled over with a nudge from a passing civilian. She landed hard, her bag skidding a couple feet away. She heard the scraping of metal on concrete and looked up just in time to see the stolen item slip effortlessly through a sewer grate. She deflated, sitting up to stare hopelessly at the place where it had been. That was a good lot of effort wasted; she'd have to find another sucker. She sighed and brushed herself off, grabbing her bag.

She turned back to the shops, freezing when a familiar outfit appeared in the crowd up ahead. All hope that he might not have seen her dissipated when their eyes locked briefly before she turned on her heel and dashed down the waterway. Perhaps if she could reach the next busy intersection she could lose him. Except she didn't hear any pursuing footsteps. No shouting (not above the normal din anyways) or curses or projectiles flying past her. She slowed and risked a glance behind her; it was more terrifying to discover not only wasn't he following her, but also she could no longer pick out his face in the crowd. She wanted to believe he'd given up, thought it wasn't worth going after but it nagged at her down the majority of the cobblestone walkway.

It was almost a relief that her suspicions weren't for naught when an arm reached out from a passing alleyway and wrapped strongly around her middle, tugging her into its shadows. The relief was not strong enough to overpower her sense of panic, or keep her from kicking and struggling (for all the good it did when her feet just scraped the ground as he restrained her). Her back was held against the captor's chest, and she faced an overshadowing viera woman (she'd only seen one once in her life, as they usually didn't come this far east) she hadn't noticed before trying to wrest her bag off her shoulder. Adrenaline kicked in and freed her from the man's grasp long enough to reach into her bag and pull out a dulled iron dagger, mostly useless except for threats. She learned quickly that life on the streets required something of this standard. She waved it toward the woman fiercely.  
"Keep your hands off me or I'll—" her threat didn't get much further than that before the feeling of cold metal against her scalp and the click of a gun hammer interrupted her.

"Careful. That's my first mate you're threatening." The voice was sharp and warm all at once, in a too well known accent that made her stomach tighten. Of course the person she'd choose to steal from would be Archadian, and not lower class by the sound of it.

Her arm lowered idly as the bag was relinquished from her and rifled through. A ringed hand clasped around her wrist and gave a crushing twist that made her cry out in surprise and loosen her grip on the dagger, which slipped into his hand. The jewelry left impressions in her skin and blood flowed to flush her wrist red.

At least now she was permitted to move freely, or at least spin herself around. She noticed two things immediately: that he didn't look like an Imperial soldier (or sailor as the case may be), and that he did look unusually familiar. She hadn't noticed herself looking for any prolonged amount of time, but he evidently had, and glanced down to meet her stare. She felt a little more confident that she wasn't going to be killed. Not here at least.  
"Have… I seen you somewhere?" she couldn't stop herself from inquiring. For the most part, he seemed unperturbed. In fact, he all but waved it away, shaking his head.  
"On a Wanted poster, like as not."

"The necklace is not here," the woman spoke for the first time, slow and soft, easy to get lost in. Four eyes burned into the girl.  
"Sold already? Who bought it?" the man's voice betrayed his impatience and the fact that she was going to have to fess up made her uncomfortable. She averted his gaze, trying to look casual but feeling a distinct flush creeping up her neck.  
"I didn't. It's…. Lost." He waited for her to continue, there was nothing for it.  
"I… Tripped. Lost it into the sewer."  
"Naturally," his voice and his face bore a mixture of amusement and frustration, "That WAS going to help pay for some important ship alterations."  
Annoyance boiled up inside her, making her straighten up and look much bolder than she felt. She shouldn't feel so intimidated; he didn't look like he could be that much older than herself.  
"It WOULD have paid for my first hot meal in ages."  
"No jobs on the market for young ladies with questionable morals?"  
"Says the man on the wanted poster. There's no work for anyone in Balfonheim who isn't a fisherman or a merchant."  
"Well now we've got neither money nor food, and you have a rather hefty debt on your shoulders. So I'd suggest you do something about it."

She wanted to swing a fist at him, but settled for sighing. It's not like he was wrong. This wasn't her first or only debt, just the first she'd been forced to repay. She could run, but they clearly knew how to trap street rats. She had nowhere to hide anyways.  
"Okay, what do I do then?" she asked. She might as well get it over with.

"You can start by giving us something of value to trade. That for instance," he responded, eyes narrowing to a string around her neck and holding out his hand. The girl tried to back away and only succeeded in bumping into the viera behind her. She placed her hand over her chest to guard it.  
"Its just an old feather necklace, its not worth anything! Please there has to be something else," she begged.  
"Doesn't look like you've got much else of value on you," he pointed out.

"Maybe not material then. I'll… I'll do anything you want," she emphasized nervously, looking up at him. The implication made the corner of his mouth quirk but he crossed his arms and kept it to himself. It did seem to give him an idea, though.  
"I'm surprised you managed to pickpocket me, you're not new to it. If you can't give us anything to sell you'll find something else for us," he was final in his decision. All in all it seemed far less of a problem then she expected.  
"Alright… If you come back in, say, three days I'm sure—" she tried to reason, but he shook his head.  
"And if we never see you again we lose everything at no cost to you, I don't think so. Besides that we don't have three days to spend waiting for an artifact to walk right on the docks," he responded, turning her towards the alley entrance and waiting for his partner to take the lead. He gave her a nudge to start walking and kept close at hand. She noticed, with relief, he had holstered his gun at least.  
"So I'm being abducted?" she threw out ruefully.  
"You're doing some labor to work it off while you find us enough to trade; "anything we want", remember?" he said as he handed back her bag, "let's hope you work better than you fight."


	2. Lead

     The aerodrome was much smaller than it looked from the outside, but still grand. The multitude of ships were anchored outside at varying heights. She could just make them out through the large terminal windows. The docents behind their desks dotted the whole of the place, sunstone powered signs lighting up destinations and departure times behind their heads. Everything was illuminated by sunstone, it gave the place a warm, inviting feeling. Even though the ceilings arched toweringly over their heads and every noise echoed and reverberated off the slick surfaces of the floor and walls. It wasn’t any quieter in here than it was on the streets. There were people saying goodbye tearfully and loud thumps of feet running towards families and wheels of luggage rolling on the tile. She could pick up snatches of conversation as she passed, like tuning through radio frequencies, including pieces from her new captors behind her  
(“This is unlike you…” ”…don’t…something…” “..wait and…”). She was too busy looking around to focus too long on any one conversation.

     “Never seen the aerodrome before?” the man’s voice appeared much closer behind her, as he grabbed her shoulder to halt her from walking further. She turned and shook her head, smiling a little.  
”The guards would never let me in because they could tell I didn’t have any money for a ticket,” she replied. They stood in a corner, but there were still too many people for them to keep a deliberate hold on her. He shifted his weight with his hands absentmindedly finding his hips, the confident pose seemed comfortable on him.  
”Right, you stay here with Fran. I’ll go inform the repair crew about the sudden change in plans,” he didn’t bother hiding a look of exasperation in her direction. She pretended not to notice and turned to the viera.  
”Fran? That’s your name?” she asked. The woman only nodded.

“And what should I call you?” she asked the man’s retreating back, “’Captain’?”

To her surprise he let out a short laugh.  
”I rather like that…” he said mysteriously before hurrying off towards a terminal exit. She had meant it as a joke, she wasn’t sure if he did as well. She looked at her companion to find any hint but instead found a hand held out in front of her.  
”Your arm. Let me see it,” the woman said softly. The girl blinked, having been completely distracted up until this moment she hadn’t given a second thought to her arm. Now that she tried to move it, she felt a sharp pain shooting through her and winced. It was strange how often an injury could go painless until spoken of, like some spell. Her dark skin was startlingly red and swollen around the wrist when she laid her hand atop Fran’s. She turned the hand over, being mindful of her sharp claws, sending more shockwaves of pain through the girl’s right side.

“I can mend it, later. If you can wait.” That was that, she let the arm down carefully and straightened to look at her partner who was now returning.  
”The moogles are aware of our situation, though they’re none too happy about it. By the way, what should we be calling you? I don’t suppose you’d answer to servant girl very long,” he shot at the girl. It took her a moment to realize he was talking to her and she narrowed her eyes, thinking on it. She had to be delicate, but just because he was Arcadian didn’t necessarily mean anything. He was a criminal too, after all.  
”My name is Tahnjr, and servants are usually PAID for their work,” she responded. He crossed his arms.  
”You took your payment well in advance. Tahnjr it is then,” he said and motioned for them to follow.

            They pushed through the crowd of passengers and out the terminal door where an old red anchor was planted apart from the rest of the ships. Tahnjr stepped into the large shadow and squinted up, following the anchorline with her eyes. She gasped when her eyes met a huge ship, bobbing on the air currents. She’d seen other airships before, naturally; even heard about them living in the village. This was the first time she’d been so close to one, and then the prospect hit her and she swung around, unable to keep an edge of excitement out of her voice.  
”We’re really flying in that?!” she asked them. The man looked offended briefly before noticing she spoke with eagerness and nothing close to disdain or snobbery, and immediately changed his disposition.

“What’s a pirate without a ship?” he said easily and pulled something shining out of his pocket, clicking a button. A rumbling above her made her start and she backed up, watching tensely. A hatch opened with a hiss and lowered itself to steps.  
”A pirate, huh…?” she voiced absently. That would explain a lot…

“You two go on in, I’ve heard there’s a gentleman here who might be able to give us some information,” he waved towards the ship and didn’t wait for a response before darting off.

            A hand pushed gently on Tahnjr’s back and she shivered, looking up at the steps and beginning to climb. The viera was kind enough but she radiated a powerful air, one you wouldn’t want to mess with. They hauled themselves up through the hatch opening and into the cramped intersected hallways. Fran hung up her bow and quiver and steered left, through the narrow hallway with Tahnjr close at her heel. They passed a couple unmarked doors and what looked, through the open archway, like a kitchen nook (she doubted more than two people could comfortably fit in there). At the end of the hallway they opened an unlocked door and stepped inside. It was a small room, just big enough for a bed, a trunk, and a chair. There was a tall window facing the ocean that made her gasp. She turned once.

“Is this… Mine?” she asked timidly. The taller woman nodded and gestured to the bed.  
”For the time. Sit,” she instructed. Tahnjr did as she was told.  
”This will hurt,” Fran said as she pushed a pillow towards her and excavated her injured arm. Tahnjr clutched the pillow tightly, looking apprehensively at the wound. The grip on her arm was light but still painful. Fran’s soft voice was muttering words she didn’t understand, but they came with a strong energy flowing around them; strong enough to pass as a light breeze it felt. It made her scalp prickle and there was a warmth in her arm. It felt good until the pain started, with the rapid shifting under her skin. She buried her face into the pillow to scream and realized the bones were aligning themselves again, mercilessly. The pain formed a cloud in her mind and dulled her other senses, with the constant grinding of bone against bone.

            By the time the pain had lessened to a dull throbbing and her senses returned to her, Fran was placing a saturated towel over the wrist (which she noted was back to its normal size and only slightly bruised). She hadn’t even noticed the woman letting go of her or leaving the room.  
”The wound is set,” she informed with a very slight smile (it looked good on her, she realized), “It is healed, though it may not feel so.”

Tahnjr had enough strength to nod and rest her arm on the bed.  
”Thank you… What was…?” she asked, puzzled.

“Basic magicks. Something all good pirates should know,” Fran responded. Before any more questions evolved there was a knock at the door, and without an answer it opened.

“You know you really should wait for an invitation before entering a lady’s room…” Tahnjr scolded lightly as her new captain stood in the doorway. He leered at her with a half grin on his face. Something had preoccupied him.

“I’d assumed you wouldn’t be changing in each other’s company, unless I’ve missed something,” he teased airily and pushed into the room. She crossed her arms and felt warm in the face.

“We’ve got a lead,” he said, a little more enthused. He didn’t show it excessively, but she could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes and the corners of her mouth caught on the excitement, turning up.

“Treasure?” his partner asked, and he nodded. “A reliable source…?”

He sighed and shrugged.  
”It’s the best lead we’ve got. And since we haven’t much else I say we take it. I was directed to a man up in Dorstonis .”

     Tahnjr’s heart fluttered a little; the sky continent, they were really going to fly. She was leaving this fish nest and not a moment too soon. The pirate turned his attention back to her and motioned for her to follow.  
”Strap in while we set off, then you might as well see the rest of the ship.” They retraced their earlier steps and skirted down the narrow passage directly in front of the hatch until the path widened, and both pirates took seats in front of the yokes. She took an empty seat in the back and brought the safety straps across her chest as she heard the clinking of the anchor retreating into the ship. As the engines started warming up she looked out the panoramic windows and wondered, briefly, just what she had gotten herself into.


	3. The Shift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe this chapter took so long to write and I'm sorry. I hope anyone who is faithfully following this has not lost interest. What a time for a filler chapter! Next one will be more exciting!

The ascent was slower and less gut wrenching than she anticipated, which was a relief. It started off noisy and jarring but she didn’t feel as though her heart had plummeted down into the ocean below them. When the ship seemed more stable she cautiously unstrapped herself and used the handrail to hoist herself up. She’d have to work on getting her feet if she was going to be doing a lot of flying. She wasn’t sure if she should be running off, but he did say explore the ship. As she scooted towards the door, they took absolutely no notice of her.  
Perhaps it was her empty stomach leading her, but her first stop was down the familiar corridor, into the kitchenette. She wondered, briefly, what all this could possibly run on. There didn’t seem to be much else in here, and really, if she were a wanderer she wouldn’t eat at home often either. A few large eggs sat in a bowl that was held tightly to the counter. She picked one up to examine it, it was big enough to have to hold with two hands. She hadn’t heard anyone else enter the room, and a voice startled her.  


“I don’t recall giving you permission to ransack our kitchen,” the man said casually, reaching forward to catch the egg she’d nearly dropped from surprise. Tahnjr turned and huffed a little, trying to play off how startled she had been. Years on the street had made her particularly jumpy.  
”Cockatrice eggs, surprisingly edible,” he continued and placed it back in the bowl, reaching a little awkwardly. She was completely wrong, not even two people could fit in here comfortably. She stepped to the side.  


“I wasn’t ‘ransacking’. You told me to look at the ship, so I am. Besides I’m going to be here a while… You do feed your prisoners, right?” she said hotly. He didn’t answer, but instead looked her over like he was searching for something, surprising her with a small frown.  


”You weren’t joking about the hot meal,” he mumbled, shifting his weight. She shrugged and mimicked his pose subconsciously, wanting to feel on equal ground. She didn’t want pity. She wanted to eat, and sleep, and maybe feel at ease for a few moments. She gestured to herself and became acutely aware of how she looked all the sudden.  


“Did I seem like I was joking? Where would someone like me get warm food?”  
He sighed and looked around the room, going to fiddle with something in one of the cupboards.  


“Unfortunately for you there’s no power to this room for the time,” he said and seemed to find what he was looking for, tossing something small and dark to her which she caught reflexively. It was soft and sweet smelling, swirls of black and purple and blue on its skin. She barely tore her eyes away from it to glance up questioningly at him.  


”Aptly called a galazy fruit, at least that’s the best translation. I considered giving you bread and water but I don’t think you would have found that quite as entertaining as I,” he said with a small smile, then nodded towards the door and started to leave. Tahnjr wanted to be offended but couldn’t quite bring herself to be. In fact the corners of her mouth turned up as she started on her fruit. She could take a joke after all.  
They turned right and headed away from the bedrooms, where the hallway was a little bit wider. He pointed briefly to a door as he passed, and she peeked inside. A bathroom.  


“Is that a tub?” she called out to him. At the other end of the hall, she could hear him rummaging through something.  


“The auxiliary engines are steam powered, there’s a boiler in the engine room for hot water,” he informed. Tahnjr hadn’t seen a bathtub in ages, and it was often obvious.  


”Do you suppose I could—“ she turned and before she could finish her sentence, he was there with an armful of clothes.  


“You’d do us all a favor…” he replied and gingerly pressed the bundle into her arms.  


The bath took longer than expected; the sun had already disappeared below the horizon with the rest of the light tailing after it, even with the long mid-year days. She was watching through the rear ship windows, running her hands through her hair. Even still lopsided, she’d never felt it this clean. At least not for a long time. Now she felt like she could breathe again from all the dirt she cleaned off, she nearly glowed. She didn’t notice the man had sidled up next to her until he spoke. Really she should make him wear a bell.  


“It won’t be forever, you know. You’re free to go back… Eventually,” he stared out the windows, the town horizon in the distance. Perspective was funny when you traveled in an airship and moved up more than away. Tahnjr shook her head.  


“I’m not upset to leave. Nothing was there for me. But I haven’t…” she fumbled with her words, leaning against the window. He only waited for her to continue.  
”When I came to this town I never left… I’ve never been outside the eastern border of Valendia,” she confessed, sighing.  


“So what happened there?” he asked, motioning towards her lopsided hair. She swept the long side over her shoulder and crossed her arms.  


“A while ago I stole from an older kid, the leader of another band of street rats, without realizing it,” she began, “he had me by the hair and the only way to get free…” She pet the short side of her hair automatically.  
”It used to be a lot shorter. After that they never let me near their camps, never shared any of their food or money they picked off travelers, but I made do.” Their conversation came to an abrupt end as it was interrupted by her stomach grumbling. She crossed her arms self-consciously.  


“We’ll be in Illsidra tomorrow,” he started, and turned to walk to the bedrooms. “And we’re both on alert, so I wouldn’t try anything.” She huffed out a laugh and walked to her own room.  


“You have my dagger, what am I going to do? Jump ship?” she demanded. He didn’t respond but paused at his doorway, looking thoughtful. All he said was “It’s Balthier, for the record.”  
The change caught her off guard and she had to stare for a moment, trying to figure out what he meant. She looked surprised when the realization dawned on her, then she smiled.  


“It suits you,” she said lightly.  


“I thought so, myself,” he responded, and promptly entered his room. She felt as though some significant shift had taken place, though she couldn’t quite identify it. Perhaps it was a trade, information for information. Regardless, she felt less uneasy about going to sleep than she had earlier that evening, and quickly pushed open her door to do just that.


End file.
